Special Circumstances
by idonrlycarenemore
Summary: It's the beginning of the 7th year at Hogwarts, and drastic changes have been made, such as the expelled Draco Malfoy returning to Hogwarts. And why does he have an interest in Hermione? See inside for details.
1. Prologue

Summary:

The Harry Potter 7th years are returning for their last year at school, with a little more than magic on their minds, such as the tremendous war between The Dark Lord and the Order. So it would strike the HP7Y's as odd when one of the Dark Lord's most faithful supporter's son shows up, pretending to have changed. Especially since Draco Malfoy had been expelled the year before, and had very narrowly murdered Albus Dumbledore. Even more surprising is the fact that Malfoy had seemed to take an odd interest in one of the biggest members of the Order. Hermione Granger.

Chapter Rating: K, but the overall is T, for now.

Summary of chapter: Basically a prologueof how Dumbledore accepts Malfoy back.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, JK Rowling does. I also do not own a cellphone. Or a functioning personal computer. But I get by.

Prologue

Dumbledore would let the devil himself attend Hogwarts if Old Nick gave him a good enough reason. Especially if he appeared to have changed. Old habits die hard. Even Dumbledore knew this, but he felt that it was from the good of his heart. After all, who wouldn't want a second chance? So when Mr. Malfoy requested a private meeting with him, Dumbledore was gracious in his prompt and positive reply. He was not even concerned with the fact that Mr. Malfoy had brought his son, Master Malfoy into Dumbledore's chambers. All it had taken were a few well-chosen words to request the audience. The rest would be perfectly simple.

'Albus Dumbledore.' Mr. Malfoy started, his eyes darting from Dumbledore to the portrait of Phineas Nigellus on the wall.

Phineas looked smugly at him, before sidestepping away into the bowels of the portrait.

'Yes, do continue Lucius. I believe you came to me with matters concerning your son?' Smiled Dumbledore.

'Yes, I did.'Mr.Malfoy smiled, a bit like a fox, trying to charm a rabbit into its hole.

'Well, have a seat, and a sweet. Preferably the Lemon Drops. Quite delicious, although I myself am partial to the Sherbet Lemon.' Dumbledore's smiled widened.

'Well, as you know, it was simply a minor, ahem, misunderstanding, the events a few months ago. I am certainly sorry about your apparent death, although ecstatic that you have returned.' Mr. Malfoy smiled, naturally, and slipperily, while sliding down in the puffy armchair in front of Dumbledore's own.

'Yes well, Lucius, I have no doubt that you, and Master Draco are repentent, although I am rather curious as to why you chose to kill me. It would have been a fruitless gesture. After all, I am the result, right in front of your eyes! But, I shall not press you. Let bygones be bygones.' Dumbledore said.

'Yes, well, Albus, the matter boils down to this. Admit Draco, or confine him at a different school?'Mr. Malfoysaid, suddenly serious.

Master Malfoy had remained silent the whole time, staring out of the window, rather dazedly.

'Well, Lucius, it all depends on whether or not Master Draco is willing to choose between doing what is right, and what is expected of him.' Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling.

'I fail to comprehend, Albus.' Mr. Malfoy said, suddenly alert, and serious.

'Alas, Lucius, it is not _you_ I press this matter of utmost importance to, but to your son. Draco, are you willing to repent your misdeeds? Do you _want_ to be re-admitted into Hogwarts? Remember, in the end, the choice is left up to you. Either choose to enter Hogwarts, and practice magic as _positively_ as poissible or--'

The word _die_ hung like a drop of rain in the air--

'Don't.' Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, twiddling his thumbs, waiting for Master Malfoy to answer.

'Sir,'--with as much sincerity as could be mustered--'Professor Dumbledore, I promise.' Master Malfoy said, a tight, forced smile on his face.

'Then, Lucius, Draco, my answer is final. I wish to see Draco at school, by means of the Hogwarts train. You will find that your prefect's rights have not been relinquished. You will not be sorted again, neither will you be able to re-pick your classes. Your last year at Hogwarts is short, Master Malfoy. _Use it well_.'

Master Malfoy and his father got up to leave, seemingly both pleased, and distinctively disgusted.

* * *

Harry Potter threw the ball up to the roof.

It stopped three inches above it before it tumbled down and plonked itself derisively on Harry's stomach.

'Damn ball.' Harry cursed.

It was well into the summer vacation, and, the only thing he could do short of talking to himself was mill around with the patched leather ball filled with beads that Dudley had 'outgrown'. A Hackey-sack.

He had 'outgrown' it when he got too tired from trying, without prevail, to toss it from his ankle to his knee.

There were only two weeks left of the summer holiday, and Harry felt washed out and simply_ bored_, having received only 2 letters from anyone of particular interest. No _Daily Prophet_s, no _The Quibbler_s, not even a Muggle newspaper. Harry had taken to reading the oldest of Dudley's books. Like 'The Muppet's Wizard of Oz' and things like that.

Hermione had sent a long, exasperatingly tactless story about 'Peru' which was apparently 'fascinating', and 'was simply stunning to behold!' and Ron was having even more fun, going to Romania with his family to visit Charlie.

Hagrid had written, a brief letter consisting mainly of the new year, and odd beasts. And in all of their letters were the words, 'Give you your present next time I see you'.

Dudley's present to Harry was Dudley's extra chores.

'It's something extra, isn't it Harry?' He had remarked, to the amusement of his parents, and of his horrific friends. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had presented him with a toilet paper roll, which Harry had been using as a telescope, so as not to frighten his suburbian neighbours with his real one.

Hedwig's present was the oddest.

A newt's eye and a frog's toe.

It was very odd, actually.

He hadn't even been allowed to go outside.

In the beginning, they sent him to Mrs Figg's, but when he seemed to _like _it there, they shut him up at home.

So there he was that day, throwing Dudley's stupid ball in the air from his bed, trying to touch the roof.

It, therefore, was very surprising when a large tawny owl bumped against his window, struggling to get in.

* * *

Ok, my first not completely related to Dramione HP fic! Yay!

Ok, you may not have noticed, but...

_Use it well--_Haha, where did that come from?

A newt's eye and a frog's toe-Ditto.

Whoever can guess BOTH sources first wins a free dedicationg, by yours truly! And have whatever topic he/she wants in their chapter!

So good luck, and happy guessing!

P.s, hope you like it, and tell me if I should continue.

Peaches,

Anya


	2. Summers

Summary:

The Harry Potter 7th years are returning for their last year at school, with a little more than magic on their minds, such as the tremendous war between The Dark Lord and the Order. So it would strike the HP7Y's as odd when one of the Dark Lord's most faithful supporter's son shows up, pretending to have changed. Especially since Draco Malfoy had been expelled the year before, and had very narrowly murdered Albus Dumbledore. Even more surprising is the fact that Malfoy had seemed to take an odd interest in one of the biggest members of the Order. Hermione Granger.

Chapter Rating: K, but the overall is T, for now.

Summary of chapter: Harry is finally leaving home to go to the Burrow, after a well deserved break from the Dursley's. But he's having strange dreams again, that are suspiciously taking the forms of, Dundundun, FLASHBACKS!

Disclaimer: If I owned the Harry Potter series...Ok, forget it. I just _don't_, Ok?

Chapter 2

Summers

Harry rushed to the window, snatching up the letter from Hedwig as quickly as he could.

'_Harry James Potter_.' The inscription written in green ink flashed brightly before Harry's eyes.

_Requirements:_

_The Standard Book of Spells, book 7-Bathilda Bagshot_

Harry's eyes scanned the pages, seeing the same books as the previous year. His eyes caught at a new book.

_Animology, A Study of Animagi and Their Properties, Oswald Dagworth_

_Animology? _Harry thought. _I thought being an Animagus was extremely difficult? Why are we studying it? _He looked worried, before reading the attached slip of paper.

**_All students will be required to carry with them an identification ring. This has been designed to:_**

**_a) secure your identity from death eaters masquerading as the wearer by use of the Polyjuice Potion_**

**_b) secure your entrance into Hogwarts_**

**_If the identification ring is not worn anywhere on the school campus excl. the lake, the student will be no longer a member of Hogwarts. It is virtually impossible to take the ring off. The specific word for removal of your ring will be presented to you at your arrival at Hogwarts. _**

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Headmistress_

The word burned itself into Harry's mind. he still wasn't used to the fact that McGonagall had taken Dumbledore's place as Head, even though Dumbledore was alive.

It was better for him, they all said.

Harry wondered why Hedwig had gone to receive the letter, instead of an official owl.

Harry looked at the return date for school.

September 8. It wasn't too far ahead.

He'd only have7 days.

He considered asking the Dursley's for a ride to Diagon Alley, even though he, in technicality, _could_ drive, although completely devoid of his driver's license.

He was legally a man now.

Dudley had been driving for six months now, but the Dursley's couldn't be bothered to pay the Driving Instructor the 25 pounds per class the attractive blonde required.

So it was either bum rides off Dudley (33 pounds per ride) or stick it out and walk.

Harry chose the latter.

But how was he going to walk to _London _from Little Whinging? He considered owling Ron, but thought better. He surely could sneak out of the house and take the train? He decided to, almost immediately before an owl banged against the window.

It was large and tawny, with soulful eyes that stared at Harry.

**DON'T MOVE! DAD'S COMING FOR YOU! DON'T DO ANYTHING STUPID!**

**Ron**

Harry rolled his eyes. The irony.

He sat on the bed, his eyes on the ceiling above him. It was frightfully bare, although immaculate and white like the rest of the Dursley's house. He had tacked his pillowcases to the small window that provided a beautiful view of Dudley's new 5 series BMW. It was white, and damn _good_. It had been Dudley's dream car for as long as Harry could remember, and now he had it, and Harry didn't even have a bicycle.

But there was no point in being moody.

Dudley was a prefect at Smelting's, and Harry was quidditch captain at Hogwarts.

All of his thoughts of leaving the Dursley's and going to Godric's Hollow were abandoned.

_Dumbledore was alive_!

* * *

_'Albus, it does not make any sense for me to take over your reign as Head of the School!' Answered Professor McGonagall, her eyes wide._

_'Minerva, it is in my very best interests that I am leaving post. I will most undoubtedly be near assassination at all times, regardless of my being Head, or not, and it is less likely for any student at Hogwarts to be wrongfully murdered if _you_ are Headmistress, my dear.' Dumbledore said._

_Minerva McGonagall transformed from anxious and worried to dead serious._

_'I will do my best to help you, Albus.' She stated resolutely._

_'Excellent. Now, Minerva, I was wondering if you could do a little, scouting for me? Investigate the Weasley's, once again.' Dumbledore said._

_'But Albus, I thought you trusted the safety of the Weasley's?' McGonagall said, distrust creeping into her tone of voice._

_'Minerva, Harry is a man. There's no telling what he may, or may not do. He might be tempted to leave the Dursley's for good, and therefore Arthur and Molly need to send him a message to _stay where he is_. And, Minerva...' He paused._

_'Yes Albus?'_

_'You must not be seen.' Here he took a deep breath, 'Or recognized.'

* * *

_

Harry blinked sleep out of his eyes. All at once, is vision had cleared completely.

'Damn.' He muttered, pulling his glasses from off of his face.

_A Tale of Two Worlds _lay beside him, the photograph pasted on the cover smirking at him. Harry smacked the photo doggedly and rolled over in his bed. A loud crack startled him again from his rest.

'Damn!' He repeated, more loudly. He noticed that it was only about 4:30 a.m.

He shut his eyes. A huge crack sounded, blended with the sound of splintering glass. Harry shot out of bed, surveilling the damage. _Big glass, lot of glass, glass, glass, glass. Oh, crap. _Harry rushed over to the window, where another stone whistled through the air. He instinctively ducked, but not before he saw the stone stop dead and fall to the ground.

He moaned and was prepared to turn his head, but not before he saw something pop up before his very eyes.

It was the brightly coloured head of Ginny Weasley.

'Hey, Harry.' She said, smirking as she saw his faded blue cotton pajamas. Harry ever so lightly blushed before smiling, joyfully.

'Hi Ginny.' He said.

Ginny smoothly stepped aside, letting Mr. Weasley walk up from behind her.

'Reparo.' He said smoothly. Harry's window became whole again.

'I figured it would make more sense if he sawGinny first. If he saw you, Dad, he might go haywire and shoot. You never know with muggles.' Fred (or George) popped up in front of Mr. Weasley.

'Hi Harry.' Fred grinned.

'Charmed.' George said, elbowing his twin brother out of the way.

'Why aren't you guys at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes?' Asked Harry, after being noogied by Fred and George.

'Harry, my man, d'you _seriously_ think that without death threat we'd be here in _Muggle areas_?' Asked George, tapping his head.

'Hell yes.' Fred smirked, crossing his arms.

'Where's...Ron?'Asked Harry.

Ginny pushed aside her brothers to speak to Harry.

'He's--Ouch George, you're stepping on my foot!--He's at home! Mum made him stay at the Burrow. Was rather pissed at her, but then, what the hell else can you do with mum? Ginny asked, matter-of-fact.

'Watch your mouth.' Mr. Weasley said, all the while looking delightedly at Harry.

'Harry, we're leaving soon. Not by apparition--' He directed his head towards Ginny, 'Or side-along, some of us being not-too responsible--' His eyes lingered on Fred and George for a minute, 'But by Proverbial Conquest.' Mr. Weasley said.

'Proverbisl What?' Harry asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

'You'll see.' Ginny grinned mischievously.

* * *

Thanks List-

Nothing yet, (sob!). Plaese R&R!


	3. Proverbial Conquest

Summary:

The Harry Potter 7th years are returning for their last year at school, with a little more than magic on their minds, such as the tremendous war between The Dark Lord and the Order. So it would strike the HP7Y's as odd when one of the Dark Lord's most faithful supporter's son shows up, pretending to have changed. Especially since Draco Malfoy had been expelled the year before, and had very narrowly murdered Albus Dumbledore. Even more surprising is the fact that Malfoy had seemed to take an odd interest in one of the biggest members of the Order. Hermione Granger.

Chapter Rating: K, but the overall is T, for now.

Summary of chapter: Harry is finally going to the Burrow, but first is going to have to magically do it by means of Proverbial Conquest, and is already being an idiot. But then again, what else is new?

Disclaimer: If I owned the Harry Potter series, I would have freaky cool initials (that actually stand for an ordinary name, weird, right?

Chapter 3

'Proverbial conquest,' Mr. Weasley explained patiently, 'It can be basically described as opening the more imaginative side of the brain, I always forget which, to explore the section that is widely recognised in the Wizarding mind. It can be said, in layman's terms, that we use our imagination to take us places.'

Ginny giggled.

'Most muggles,' Mr. Weasley continued, 'Are completely oblivious to this side of the brain--'

'Oh no, another one of Dad's lectures. I wonder why he doesn't just poison us in his sleep.' Fred whispered.

'This is for Ginny and Harry's benefit!' Mr. Weasley said, his face flustered and red.

'Oh _really_! Well then, Fred, let's go! We already know how to PC, don't we?' George smirked.

'Go on, it'll be easier without them, Dad.' Ginny said.

'All right, Fred.'

'All right George.'

The twins topped imaginary hats and walked into oblivion.

Harry gasped.

'I never get used to seeing them do that.' Ginny said sympathetically, patting Harry's hand.

He felt a swoop of pleasure as she did that, the feel of her white, cool hand soft and sensual, so remnant of the previous month.

Already, he was wide awake.

'Fred and George are better at it than most,' Ginny said, tucking her hand in her robes, breaking Harry's train of thought, 'Dad's still spinning around in circles before PCing. Too much apparition.' Ginny sighed condescendingly.

'Very funny, Ginevra.' Mr. Weasley said, blushing to his ears.

Ginny winced visibly at the sound of her old-fashioned name before allowing Mr. Weasley yo continue.

'Proverbial Conquest is like a modified mode of apparition. It is less legal than apparition because it can be accessed by Muggles. But use of Proverbial Conquest have been lax, especially since when muggles Proverbate, it is referred to as "sleepwalking."' Mr. Weasley said.

To Harry it sounded like Hermione rambling off from an essay that she had just researched.

Hermione! How was she?

'Er, Mr. Weasley, have you heard from Hermione recently?' Harry asked, trying to act nonchalant.

'Why, no Harry? Were you _expecting _her?' Ginny asked in a falsetto, extremely girly voice.

Harry blushed and responded hotly.

'No, but she's my friend and--'

'Just joking Harry, you can stop, seriously. She's supposed to be picked up tomorrow. She can already Proverbate and everything! She's been _begging _to practice her apparition, but seeing as even something as innocent as Apparition can be dogged, we've been keeping it on the downlow. For now, Proverbial Conquest is entirely legal, well, mostly anyway, and cannot be traced.' Ginny said triumphantly.

'_Anyway_,' Mr. Weasley interrupted, 'Harry, to Proverbial Conquest, you simply need to clearly see your destination, and sort of detach your mind from your body.'

Harry looked as if Mr. Weasley had just asked him to swallow a tree-frog.

'Detach my mind from my body?' He said, weakly.

'Harry, Harry, Harry. Your mind is already being non-Proverbialized. One of the Muggles' only faults, bless them, is that their minds are so closed to what wizards call everyday. You Harry, being brought up by Muggles, are inclined to think that such doings is impossible. When a Seer is in a trance, doesn't she completely detatch herself from the current events, as she Sees? Isn't she detatching herself into the _future_?' Mr. Weasley said.

'Er, I guess so.' Harry said, feeling very stupid.

'Well then, how difficult can it be for us to move our minds into someplace in the present?' Mr. Weasley prompted.

'Ahm, maybe, I suppose.' Harry said again, watching Ginny smirk and roll her eyes from the corner of his eyes.

'Yes, that's right.' Harry said more forcefully.

'Look, Harry, I bet you're wondering why we don't just take the subway to get to the Burrow, but this is _more _than just getting from A to B. This is a mode of _survival_! Well, let's get started. Ginny, you first.' Mr. Weasley said.

Ginny smashed her lips together, cramming her eyes shut and looking as if she had been given an overdose of U-No-Poo.

'Now concentrate.' Mr. Weasley said.

Ginny's eyes squinched up even tighter.

'And _go_!' Mr. Weasley whispered.

Ginny walked forward, disappearing completely.

'Wow!' Harry shouted.

'Harry, you _must _be quiet. The Dursley's are still very much asleep, but still, _be careful_!'

Mr. Weasley's words brought about a jolt in Harry, as he remembered his previous night's dream.

* * *

_'Father, why have I been chosen? Can it not be more effective to appoint another in my place?' The voice of a young man whined audibly._

_'Silence. It is not of my decision why the Dark Lord is being so, so final. But it is you who has been chosen. It is bad enough having your mother whine and complain about what has occurred, far worse you.' The slippery sound cut through the other's whining._

_'Yes father.' The first voice said, submissive yet still obviously annoyed._

_'Be careful, and stay away from prying eyes. The Potter boy is still very much aware of the danger in his surroundings.' The second voice snapped._

_'Yes father.' The first recoiled.

* * *

_

'Harry! Are you ready to try?' Asked Mr. Weasley.

'Well, yes.' Harry said, his memories still holding on to the dream, before it slipped away.

'Shut your eyes, that makes it easier.'

Harry shut his eyes, and closed his mouth.

'All right, Harry.'

'1.'

'2.'

'3.'

Harry walked slowly, envisioning the Burrow.

Almost at once he felt as if he was asleep. His mind was very relaxed, before suddenly speeding up, memories flying back and forth.

Then, it was all over. Harry was flat on his back staring up into a deep black sky.

He was there. He was finally there.

After all those weeks of being by himself, he was finally there.

He was completely happy.

He jumped back up on his feet, before looking around, and noticing the dank foul smells that approached him.

He wasn't at the Burrow at all.

He was right outside of some strange shop, filled with murderous scupltures and statues.

Three spindly words caught Harry's eyes as he spun around widly, trying to regain his footing.

_Borgin and Burke's_.


	4. Something New

Summary: 

The Harry Potter 7th years are returning for their last year at school, with a little more than magic on their minds, such as the tremendous war between The Dark Lord and the Order. So it would strike the HP7Y's as odd when one of the Dark Lord's most faithful supporter's son shows up, pretending to have changed. Especially since Draco Malfoy had been expelled the year before, and had very narrowly murdered Albus Dumbledore. Even more surprising is the fact that Malfoy had seemed to take an odd interest in one of the biggest members of the Order. Hermione Granger.

Chapter Rating: T

Summary of chapter: Introduction to Malfoy, tiny peek into what's going to happen, and also Harry's discovery.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series. if you want to know who owns them, look on the front of the book. Just a hint.

Chapter 3

Something New

Draco Malfoy eyed Pansy Parkinson out of the corner of his eye.

Pansy was always very diffucult to look at head-on.

Something about her was just, severe.

She was pretty, very slight and short, armed with a sleek black pixie-cut and ice blue eyes. She was always one of those mind-over-matter girls, especially when it came to Draco.

Pansy had always been very, very closed.

In public she was your best friend, your bitch, your slut, anything the situation required. But when alone, together, she was as uptight as if someone had shoved a galleon up her ass.

Today she was poring over books in the Malfoy Library, her glasses glinting as she sucked on her finger before briskly turning the page.

'The house-elves hate it when you do that.' Draco said, still eyeing her nervously out of the corner of his eye.

Pansy straightened up, stretched her arms backward and fake-yawned.

'Since when have you ever given a damn about what your house-elves think?' She replied calmly.

She fake-yawned again before returning to the books.

She had been his friend. Their relationship was somewhat--forced, but they had remained friends, much to both their surprise.

'What interests you today?' Draco said, choosing his words carefully. You could never be too cautious when asking questions like that to her.

'Shut up, Draco.' She said coolly, tucking an imaginary out-of-place strand of hair behind her ear.

Her navy-blue robes billowed around her milk-white arms as she read.

Herfeet rocked back and forth in those three-inch wedge heels she called "School shoes".

Draco walked from his position by the book-case, and walked up until he was right behind her.

_Look at her back. Her back. Don't be intimidated, Draco Malfoy, you're a man!_ He thought furiously. Pansy always had this effect on him.

'Move.' She said, without emotion in her voice.

Without hesitation, he did.

Abruptly, she slammed the book, the sound echoing in the library.

She swivelled round, uncrossing and then recrossing her legs so that her school robes hiked up. She stretched again, her breasts straining forward in her shirt.

He gulped.

She removed her unicorn-horn rimmed glasses before looking him up and down.

'You're looking decent, today.' She said, pausing a bit before the _today._

'What were you doing?' He asked, his voice wobbling.

'If you _must _know, I was researching the kneazle.' Pansy replied.

'The Kneazle?' Draco replied uncertainly.

'That damn cat is getting on my nerves.' Pansy said, without anger.

No words were needed. It was the mudblood's cat she meant.

'And well, is it?' Draco replied foolishly.

'Some say yes, I say no.' She answered ambiguously.

'Why'd you come to the Manor to research a kneazle?' He said, haultingly.

'Because I wasn't.' Her eyes revealed a malicious glint.

_Damn_.

He decided not to press her, but instead gestured outside.

'It's a nice day out. Want to go?' He asked, stupidly.

'No.' She replied simply, before swivelling back around in her chair.

She buried her face in her arms, and shut her eyes.

'You'd better go now.' She said, directing it at him, as if it were her house, not his.

Without response, he left.

He got up, and left.

* * *

'Do you know where Harry could be Ron?' The bushy-haired girl said quickly, her tongue speeding up the words almost lightning-fast. 

'No Hermione.' the red-haired boy answered, as if she had been eternally asking him the same question.

'I am _so _worried. He should have arrived by now. Ginny's been here _ages_. Are you _sure_ he's okay?' The girl pressed the boy.

'Positive. Don't fret Hermione. He'll be here.' The boy moved slowly closer to the girl, his mouth looking suspiciously puckered. The girl nervously moved back, while biting nervously on her bottom lip. The boy did not seem to notice, he was leaning even closer into her.

She bit her lip harder before opening her mouth.

'Er, Ron...' She started.

Suddenly, the boy pulled away, his eyes cast downwards onto the papers in front of him, leaving the girl both bewildered and faintly annoyed.

'Boys.' The girl clearly said.

Lucius Malfoy pulled his head away from the window, his mind having gathered enough information.

The Mudblood and the Weasley had not heard from Potter.

He had not arrived. Lucius could not stop the quickly spreading smile that flourished upon his face.

Potter hadn't arrived, but this girl might prove useful.

She obviously was concerned in the Potter boy's affairs.

She might prove to be the key. And well, after all, the Dark Lord always welcomed traitors.

* * *

Harry cleared his head, shaking it furiously from side to side. 

'What the _hell _am I doing.' His brain tried to process this information as his feet walked to Borgin and Burkes.

'Yes.' The snotty witch at the front desk said.

'Erm, have you seen...uh, never mind.' Harry said thickly.

The witch rolled her eyes before raising a thinly tweezed eyebrow.

'Are you...' Her magenta eyes had spotted his scar.

'I'll be leaving now.' He said.

The woman had begun to flip her honey-blonde hair, smiling and showing off even white teeth, framed by sticky purple lipstick.

Harry smiled thinly and left, before visibly retching. The woman couldn't have been a day younger than thirty-six.

He walked out of the store, still dressed in his pajamas, thanking himself that he had not chosen to wear his boxers to bed.

He gazed around aimlessly, his eyes taking in hags trading with well-dressed wizards, apocethary ingredients being sold in a shop called 'Jebediah's Tea and Coffee', and two men carrying canes while smirking at Harry's pajamas.

He was about to curse his bad fortune when a red-headed man ran over to him.

'Harry!' Mr. Weasley voiced impatiently.

Harry's knees wobbled with relief.

'Not bad, not bad _at all_.' Mr. Weasley said, eyeing him carefully.

'Ginny's done it, and got there too I bet!' Harry snapped indignantly.

'She'd better have, this being her forty-sixth time and all!' Mr. Weasley responded.

Harry covered his mouth, unable to hide the smirk that crept towards his face.

* * *

Author's Note-Well then, this chapter may have beens hort, but two in less than 2 days! Not too shabby!

OK, in reponse to my quiz...

_Use it well--_Yes, this did occur when Dumbledore returned Harry's invisibility cloak to Harry after Harry idiotically left it in the tower. Congrats to cricketsong for figuring it out!

A newt's eye and a frog's toe-From Hamlet,

_Eye of newt, and tow of frog,_

_---of rat and tongue of dog._

_... By the pricking of my thumbs_

_Something wicked this way comes_,

Which _also_ comes from the beginning of the third movie, the song.

I can't believe you didn't get it! So cricketsong, all you get is a congrats. Better luck next time!


	5. Quis est non veneficus

Summary:

The Harry Potter 7th years are returning for their last year at school, with a little more than magic on their minds, such as the tremendous war between The Dark Lord and the Order. So it would strike the HP7Y's as odd when one of the Dark Lord's most faithful supporter's son shows up, pretending to have changed. Especially since Draco Malfoy had been expelled the year before, and had very narrowly murdered Albus Dumbledore. Even more surprising is the fact that Malfoy had seemed to take an odd interest in one of the biggest members of the Order. Hermione Granger.

Chapter Rating: T

Summary of chapter: The HPY7's random thoughts, focusing on Malfoy's, Hermione's and Harry's. This chapter is very important to the story take note!

Disclaimer: I've signed a legal document. I'm _seriously _not her.

(new feature!) Last Chapter: _Harry's knees wobbled with relief._

_'Not bad, not bad at all.' Mr. Weasley said, eyeing him carefully._

_'Ginny's done it, and got there too I bet!' Harry snapped indignantly._

_'She'd better have, this being her forty-sixth time and all!' Mr. Weasley responded._

_Harry covered his mouth, unable to hide the smirk that crept towards his face._

Chapter 5

Mr. Weasley yanked Harry's hand, dragging Harry towards himself.

Harry flinched visibly at Mr. Weasley's harsh touch, but allowed himself to be hurried away from Borgin and Burkes.

'Uh, sir? Where are we going?' Harry asked, trying to keep up with Mr. Weasley's pace. Mr. Weasley turned into a dark alleyway, before dropping Harry's hand.

'Specialis Revelio!' He said, pointing violently at a dustbin.

The poor object was knocked to the ground, before righting itself.

'Good.' Mr. Weasley nodded. 'Harry, I wished to talk with you in private. I apologize for whatever inconvience this may have caused to you,' he said, pointing to Harry's sore wrist.

'Harry, the world is not safe. With Dumbledore's apparent 'disappearance', You-Know-Voldemort is feeling eighteen years younger. He feels safe in knowing that your protector is dead. He will do whatever it takes to kill you. Neither can live while the other survives. Harry, he will kill you! Unless, someone does it first.' Mr. Weasley stated ominously.

Harry gulped, before squinting at Mr. Weasley.

'Ah, I'd almost forgotten. Hang on to me, Harry.' Mr. Weasley said.

'Proverbia!' Mr. Weasley said loudly and clearly.

'There's a spell?' Harry asked, looking confused.

'You should know by know that you do not always need wands to perform magic, Harry. Being a wizard contains so much other important things.' Mr. Weasley trailed off, as the foul smelling air began to speed away, to be replace by the stinging sensation of revisiting the past. Harry span around nervously as he saw Cho's face looming over to kiss him, Hermione rolling her eyes as Ron and Harry looked at her expectantly, Malfoy twitching around nervously, and finally, the Burrow.

His eyes shot open as he fell down on Mrs. Weasley's old shag rug.

'Harry!' A gleeful Hermione squealed.

'About time you got here, mate.' Ron held back a grin.

Mrs. Weasley enveloped him in a full embrace, and Harry could just glimpse Ron smirking evilly.

'Lord, you're thin.' Mrs. Weasley tutted, while helping Harry to an enormous serving of steak and kidney pie.

'Mum's been cooking up a feast.' Ron stated seriously, before punching Harry on the shoulder.

Harry smirked as he watched Mrs. Weasley plonk potato goulash onto his plate. He was home.

* * *

Hermione frustatedly banged her head onto the pile of books. 

There was no way she was going to ever properly perform an Imperio curse. Who did Mr. and Mrs. Weasley think she was.

'Hermione, you're the cleverest witch in the school! Stop beating yourself up over something any good person can't do!' Ginny had remarked to Hermione, punching her shoudler playfully.

Hermione had smiled softly, rubbing her shoulder. Why couldn't she do it? Loads of people had done it already! She'd bet Malfoy had, being the slimy, death-eater git he was.

This thought surprised her. Malfoy? Malfoy was gone. The only unpleasant memories that came up was that it was going to be very different now that Malfoy had gone AWOL.

So why was she thinking of him? There were some things Hermione would never know.

She scratched her quill absentmindedly into a piece of paper, doodling the twelve uses of Dragon's blood. She'd just gotten to"important in many different potions" beforeGinny stepped into the room.

'Hermione!' She squealed. 'Harry's finally here!' Hermione tossed her quill onto the floor, rushing past Ginny as she pushed the door open. She had to welcome her best friend.

* * *

Malfoy tapped his quill impatiently against a piece of brand-new, creamy parchment. He obviously wasn't going to be doing his N.E.W.Ts anyway, the Dark Lord should have pieced together his plans by then. So why the hell was he doing his homework? He thought furiously, while struggling to remember the twelve uses of Dragon's Blood. He had a fleeting notion of popping round to Pansy's to ask her, but then realized that she'd most probably bash him over the head. 

'Dumbass.' She'd snap, while easily and leisurely scribing the twelve uses in straight calligraphy.

Draco mussed his hair, while poking the quill through the pewter desk. His mother strode in, and wrinkled her nose.

'_Homework_, my dear boy? Nonsense! Gertha!' She cried. A house-elf appeared from behind a bookcase, wrapped in swaddling blankets. 'Fetch Horst!' Narcissa snarled.

Gertha rushed off, appearing a few seconds later with a tall, buxom woman.

_Horst_. Draco felt his mouth go dry, and his skin heat up. Horst was Narcissa's personal assistant for a year running. She was blonde, and fantasically gorgeous, in a beckoning, almost inviting way. She was about twenty, and Draco had an enormous fancy for her. Unfortunately, she was at his beck and call, and detested him for it.

'Horst, _please_ complete Master Draco's homework, _now_!' Narcissa commanded. Draco tried to give Horst an encouraging look, but she practically stuck her middle finger up at him before gracefully seating herself on the warm chair his butt had just occupied.

Narcissa extended her finger towards him, curving it to her, indicating for him to come.

He grudgingly walked up to her.

'Yes mother?' He said.

'It is time to pack your things. There are somethings we do not want the servants to see, so you will do your trunks yourself. Understood?' She inquired of him.

'I suppose so.' He said, nonchalantly.

'Yes _who_?' She prompted.

'Yes _mother_.' He said, seething. She spun around and walked briskly down the marble floors.

Draco stalked off behind her, leaving Horst to silently complete his homework.

'Quis est non veneficus mereo mereor morior.' He chanted, trying his hardest to refrain from performing the spell.

* * *

A/N-Props to anyone who can translate the above! If you can guess what it does, you'll have a pretty good idea of why it's so hard for Draco to refrain from performing it! 

Sorry for such a short chappie, but I'm not motivated without reviews! (Just kidding!)


	6. Too Distant for Comfort

Summary:

The Harry Potter 7th years are returning for their last year at school, with a little more than magic on their minds, such as the tremendous war between The Dark Lord and the Order. So it would strike the HP7Y's as odd when one of the Dark Lord's most faithful supporter's son shows up, pretending to have changed. Especially since Draco Malfoy had been expelled the year before, and had very narrowly murdered Albus Dumbledore. Even more surprising is the fact that Malfoy had seemed to take an odd interest in one of the biggest members of the Order. Hermione Granger.

Chapter Rating: K+

Summary of chapter: When you're having a bad day, you'll believe anything, and the hits just start coming.

Disclaimer: Do I really need to do this? I DO NOT OWN THE HARRY POTTER SERIES! Exclamation marks x100000000000000000!

Last Chapter:

_'Yes mother?' He said._

_'It is time to pack your things. There are somethings we do not want the servants to see, so you will do your trunks yourself. Understood?' She inquired of him._

_'I suppose so.' He said, nonchalantly._

_'Yes who?' She prompted._

_'Yes mother.' He said, seething. She spun around and walked briskly down the marble floors._

_Draco stalked off behind her, leaving Horst to silently complete his homework._

_'Quis est non veneficus mereo mereor morior.' He chanted, trying his hardest to refrain from performing the spell._

Chapter 6

Draco angrily slammed his trunk open, before cursing his mother.

Who did Narcissa did she _was_?

His keeper? The other house-elves would do it easily, without giving a rat's ass as to the contents.

He folded a pair of green Egyptian cotton boxers into his trunk, before cursing as they caught on his fingernails.

He packed angrily, tossing items pell-mell into his trunk, before coming across a crystal blue bottle. It was filled with a silver liquid, and corked tightly. It was unbreakable quartz.

He gingerly took it up, before stifling a yell as it exploded into his face.

Draco, 

This bottle contains eight fluid ounces of Unicorn's blood. Hopefully you won't have to use it.

Lucius 

Draco smiled sardonically.

How typical of his father to give him something that could kill him.

He tossed his schoolbooks into his trunk, casually tossing aside The Omen before a slip of paper caught his eye.

He smiled, happily this time, before feeling the feel of creamy parchment beneath his fingers.

To: Mr. Draco Abraxias Malfoy, 

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has appointed you as student head of your house. You will meet with other house heads, as well as the Head-boy and Head-girl every fortnight, to discuss your duties. Your schedule has been modified to accommodate your new responsibilities.

_Sincerely,_

_Professor M. McGonagall_

Draco read it through carefully, before slamming it into the trunk with his other worthless items.

His mother had transfigured his identification ring, so that it looked decent.

It had the Malfoy crest engraved into a silver ring with a thin emerald line running through it.

He slid it on, almost forgetting that it wasn't his own ring, and that he needed to wear it, before shutting his trunk, and collapsing onto his gigantic four-poster bed, falling into dreamless sleep.

'It is yours now, my son.' The voice seemed to be saying fuzzily. The boy in whose body Harry was in shook his head.

'_You mean, it is yours through me.' The boy answered coldly, or so Harry thought._

'_You still scorn, even though you are dying.' The man said, a hint of laughter in his voice._

'_I'm not going to die,' The boy said, although it sounded as if he was dying, 'You're not getting rid of me _that_ easily.' Harry felt the boy slipping out of consciousness. He felt his-the boy's-world go black, as he felt himself awaken._

'I always knew that he was bad news.' Ron declared frankly, nodding his head as Harry related his dreams to his friends.

'Why would _Malfoy_ be so angry with his father? Come _on _Harry! What do we know about Malfoy that would prove his loyalty to his father? He's always talking about him for a start.' Hermione pointed out.

Harry blinked rapid-fire.

'So, let me get this straight, you think I'm _lying_?' Harry said, shocked.

'For heaven's sake Harry, pull yourself together.' Hermione snapped indignantly. 'Of course I don't think you're lying, I just think you might have interpreted it wrong. Why would it be Malfoy, of all people?'

Harry refused to be daunted.

'It _was_ Malfoy, I'm sure of it.' Harry responded hotly, before Hermione opened her mouth to argue.

'Enough, both of you!' Snapped Ginny. 'Harry, it's obviously not Malfoy, so just, _done_, OK? And Hermione, we all know you're right, so get _over_ yourself!'

Harry looked away while Ron let his jaw drop. Hermione looked close to tears.

Ginny allowed five seconds of awe from her friends before scoffing and stalking off to help Mrs. Weasley cook breakfast.

'Some people.' Ron said, his mouth still wide open. Harry pursed his lips. It was no use arguing with Ginny. In the end, he'd always be the one close to tears.

Hermione giggled as she stepped into the fireplace, before saying "Diagon Alley" while fighting down fits of laughter.

Ron had cleared his throat numerous times, obviously trying to be funny before Mrs. Weasley had shouted loudly, 'Get _on _with it! Some of us have more important things to do than listen to you try to puff up like a bullfrog!' To which Ginny had replied snootily, '_Try_ to?'

Hermione was still laughing after she stepped out of the fireplace on the street of Madame Malkin's.

She followed the Weasley's and Harry, before seeing a brand new book in Bartlebye's Books. She squealed happily before rushing off into the store.

As she stared around in the store, something caught her eye. It was The Omen. She'd remembered watching the old movie, her eyes feeling as if they were about to be clawed out.

The cover of the book portrayed a black dog. She ran her finger across the spine, before almost definitely seeing the black dog wink. She picked it up, her eyes binded to the cover.

It was a relatively big book, about eight hundred pages long. It contained pictures that were horrifyingly still. It was strange to see unmoving pictures in a book from the Wizarding World.

She could not tear herself away from the graphic, detailed images of a man screaming, his mind forever lost, his only comfort in the absence of thought, driven insane by the overwhelming knowledge that _something_ was going to happen.

To her horror, she found herself holding the book in her hands, walking towards the cashier, depositing the 14 galleons the book cost.

She felt her eye contact with the book break as it was wrapped in brown paper.

She once more felt in touch with her body.

She shuddered, before vowing never to touch it for as long as she lived.

The picture of the man would haunt her, and no Memory charm could take that thought of the man, his eyes red with agony, away.

All thoughts of her buying _Tangling with The Terrible_ were gone.

She moaned. She only had six galleons left.

'What'd you buy, Hermione?' Ginny said, interested. She ripped open the paper, her face falling as she saw the cover.

'_Un_moving pictures? How terribly boring and Hermione of you.' She tutted, before rolling her eyes and giggling, depositing the partially opened book ito Hermione's hands.

'You can put it in my bag.' Ginny said, holding out a bag filled with schoolbooks.

Hermione smiled gratefully before handing the book over.

As she walked away, she strayed away from the Weasley's, before tripping over a stray toad.

She felt herself crash to the floor, her body racking with sobs. Why her? Why _today_?

She cried some more, before feeling the presence of someone behind her. She cricked her neck while whirring it around, to meet the eyes of her follower.

_Malfoy_.

She turned her head.

To her surprise, Malfoy seemed not to notice her, instead stepping around her, before walking off, following his parents.

She picked herself off the ground, before her friends surrounded her, asking about her health.

_All things happen for a reason_, she told herself firmly_, There's no such things as Omens_.

But the nagging voice in the back of her head kept repeating the same thing over and over.

There's such things as witches, there's such things as ghosts… 

She hit herself in her forehead again.

She was going to drive herself insane.

Draco walked around aimlessly, trying his best to keep up with his parent's quick pace, not even noticing until he'd passed her that Granger had been crying. On the _floor_.

He scoffed. Mudbloods.

He had just bought himself a snitch, just for kicks. He tossed it up into the air, catching it again, before his mother told him to stop it.

'You have school in five days. Do something _worthwhile_.' He'd shut up and walked off, trying to look unrelated to his parents, although that was impossible. It was the blond hair thing, Draco was sure of it.

As he pondered this, a sea of redheads and Potter zoomed passed him, probably itching to see how their little girl-toy Hermione was doing.

Prudes.

They all really acted as if they were concerned. Any concerned idiot would leave her to cry. Which is just what he'd done. Oh Merlin. What _had_ he done?


	7. Cluttered Thoughts and Headgirlship

Chapter 7

Summary: 

The Harry Potter 7th years are returning for their last year at school, with a little more than magic on their minds, such as the tremendous war between The Dark Lord and the Order. So it would strike the HP7Y's as odd when one of the Dark Lord's most faithful supporter's son shows up, pretending to have changed. Especially since Draco Malfoy had been expelled the year before, and had very narrowly murdered Albus Dumbledore. Even more surprising is the fact that Malfoy had seemed to take an odd interest in one of the biggest members of the Order. Hermione Granger.

Chapter Rating: K+

Summary of chapter: Some surprising news, some to us, some to the HPY7.

Disclaimer: I'm too bored to think of any interesting disclaimers so, I disclaim this story. Suck that copyright. And BTW, shouldn't fanfiction be doing this disclaimer thing for us? It's _their_ site and all...

Last Chapter:

_Draco walked around aimlessly, trying his best to keep up with his parent's quick pace, not even noticing until he'd passed her that Granger had been crying. On the floor._

_He scoffed. Mudbloods._

_He had just bought himself a snitch, just for kicks. He tossed it up into the air, catching it again, before his mother told him to stop it._

_'You have school in five days. Do something worthwhile.' He'd shut up and walked off, trying to look unrelated to his parents, although that was impossible. It was the blond hair thing, Draco was sure of it._

_As he pondered this, a sea of redheads and Potter zoomed passed him, probably itching to see how their little girl-toy Hermione was doing._

_Prudes._

_They all really acted as if they were concerned. Any concerned idiot would leave her to cry. Which is just what he'd done. Oh Merlin. What had he done?_

A/N-Alright, here it is. Just, please don't hate me. Please.

Almost poetically, Hermione viewed it in slow motion. The tossing of the parchment, Hogwarts seal carefully broken, the sound of the dull _clunk_ on the bottom of the pale metal garbage can, the frantic cries of Hermione, rushing to dig the paper out, the joyful blur as her eyes swam with tears of green, gold, blue and red. The letter, "_Dear Hermione Jane Granger_," she'd felt like a queen. No, better than a queen, like a, a, like a _person_, instead of just a muggle-born.

The headboy was a seventh year named Rigardine Dvorak, a rather pompous Ravenclaw she'd come across in the library. He was nice enough, she decided.

Much better than some other candidates that had good grades and were fairly, well, _commanding_. Blaise Zabini was one, awful hoity-toity he was.

Ernie MacMillan, who was, at the very least, strange, at the very most, quite infuriatingly rule-abiding, in the most damnably, _good_ way. He was another strange, yet capable candidate. She was mentally rattling off names in her head, still viewing her Headgirl acceptance, slowly and fondly. She hardly noticed Ginny come in, and didn't notice at all when she began to prattle on an on about some, meeting.

'As I was saying to Dad, it makes no sense why the Order should want to—Hermione? Herr-myy-ooohhhh-kkneeeee?' Ginny said questioningly, waving a hand in front of Hermione's face.

Hermione snapped up. 'Oh sorry, what?'

'You frightful bugger.' Ginny said good-naturedly. She explained something else to Hermione, that was lost on Hermione's far-away ears. Ginny extended a hand to Hermione, helping her off of the old camp bed of the Weasley's. Hermione allowed herself to be helped up, struggling to keep up with the athletic and fast-paced Ginny, who seemed to be on a roll today.

They walked off quickly, almost skipping down the stairs. They eventually came across Harry, Ron and Mrs. Weasley who were heatedly arguing with Professor Lupin, who had arrived sometime during the night, occupying Fred and George's room.

'But _sir_, it makes no sense. Why would Dumbledore do this? He almost _killed_ him! That's like, well, like readmitting Snape into school!' Harry said, his hands moving around expressively.

'_Professor_ Snape.' Professor Lupin, said looking uncomfortable. Both Harry and Ron turned bright red.

'What a load of—'

'That's _ridiculous_!'

'Who the hell d'you think would let—'

'Absolutely, _awful_! Remus, this is preposterous! This Malfoy boy had almost succeeding in murdering Dumbledore, and Snape might as well have what with all this secrecy and you know, _Remus_!' Mrs. Weasley had replied heatedly, Ron shouting in between her remarks. Harry had remained strangely quiet.

Ginny's jaw had dropped. She was bright pink.

'What the bloody _hell_?' She'd cursed hotly. Hermione felt sympathetic. Malfoy had been more of a nuisance to Harry, Ginny and Ron that he had ever been to her. Ron because, well, because, it was hard to explain. With Harry, it was obvious. Harry was _better_. Malfoy was definitely jealous of him, his Quidditch ability, his _fame_. Malfoy was just a little kid with a parents with history.

Ginny hated him because his father had tried to kill her. He probably knew, and he hadn't done the single one good thing he could have done. He'd have rather seen her _die_.

Hermione wondered idly what he had done to her. Nothing much really, except, _oh_. Memories flooded back, of threats, unkind words, taunts. She shrugged it off.

Wait, Malfoy was back?

'What do you mean, _Malfoy_? Is he really, coming back?' Hermione said, mentally panicking.

'Yes.' Ron said, pointedly staring agitatedly at Professor Lupin.

'But, he almost, _killed_, oh my.' Hermione finished, lamely, sounding utterly aghast.

Harry hadn't said a word, and was staring aimlessly out the window. Hermione felt utterly depressed, remembering the strange, almost seductive book. The Omen. It called to her, enticing her to read its pages. Hermione instinctively shuddered, and the feeling was gone.

Wait. They've let _Snape_ in. Hermione quickly processed this news in her mind.

'That's _preposterous_!' She said accusingly. 'Snape as good as _murdered_ Professor Dumbledore, and now he's letting him _back_?' She began to ramble on about morals and certain standards before Lupin shut her up with a look.

'Well, Harry, we're at the Weasley's because of something more drastic than Snape's return, actually.' Lupin said. 'And _Malfoy's_,' Ron muttered darkly.

'Harry, this may come as a shock to you, I can't see why it wouldn't affect you, but, well, it turns out, you, Dumbledore and Snape aren't the only ones who have heard the prophecy. It turns out, Lucius Malfoy has too.'

Hermione looked up, searching Lupin's face for a lie. He looked noncommittal, but Hermione could tell that he was twitching in his stature.

Harry looked around at everyone, his eyes lingering on Lupin, the light in them gone out. He stood up, gave a half-shrug, then walked out of the room.

* * *

Draco woke up to the sound of music. Tranquil, calm birds twittered at his window. He gave a wry smirk. Too bad they would face the wrath of his owl before the day's end. He had immense pride and faith in his owl, Hermes. He had never failed to send messages accurately. He caught himself thinking about compassion. He mentally tutted himself, his eye catching the moving black mark on his forearm. He casually shrugged a sleeve down over the arm. He would have to perfect that move, soon enough.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts, immediately striding in. It was his father.

Draco slid on a robe over his pajamas. His father stared him in the eye.

'I have made the arrangements, Draco. Now, it is all up to you. This is what you have to do…' His father swept a tendril of imaginary blond hair behind his ear, cleared his throat, and began to tell Draco of his part in the horror that awaited the Hogwarts students, especially that group of people that some called the Golden Trio. Draco took a deep breath. It would not be easy, he knew, but it had to be done. For the good of wizardkind, for his master, for himself.

* * *

A/N-OK, this is officially the shortest chapter I've ever written, so, please don't hate me. Also, this last paragraph is VERY important to the well-being of Malfoy's character. Also, many of you might wonder why he would not be a giid candidate for headboy. Ok, read the 6th book, and then we'll talk. Once again, don't hate me.

BTW, did anyone notice the reference to the Ancient Greek messenger god, Hermes? I stuck it in as some History. Review, review, review!


	8. Pensive Thinking

Chapter 8

Summary:

The Harry Potter 7th years are returning for their last year at school, with a little more than magic on their minds, such as the tremendous war between The Dark Lord and the Order. So it would strike the HP7Y's as odd when one of the Dark Lord's most faithful supporter's son shows up, pretending to have changed. Especially since Draco Malfoy had been expelled the year before, and had very narrowly murdered Albus Dumbledore. Even more surprising is the fact that Malfoy had seemed to take an odd interest in one of the biggest members of the Order. Hermione Granger.

Chapter Rating: T

Summary of chapter: Subtle discoveries and random gay talk.

Disclaimer: There, by writing disclaimer, I've just DISCLAIMED THE WHOLE FRIGGING CHAPTER! So there. Hahaha.

Last Chapter:

_A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts, immediately striding in. It was his father._

_Draco slid on a robe over his pajamas. His father stared him in the eye._

_'I have made the arrangements, Draco. Now, it is all up to you. This is what you have to do…' His father swept a tendril of imaginary blond hair behind his ear, cleared his throat, and began to tell Draco of his part in the horror that awaited the Hogwarts students, especially that group of people that some called the Golden Trio. Draco took a deep breath. It would not be easy, he knew, but it had to be done. For the good of wizardkind, for his master, for himself._

Harry agitatedly ran a hand through his hair. He had been doing that a lot lately. Why had no one told him about this before? Had it been some sort of bribe? And what did that have to do with their staying at the Weasley's? It would mean that something was wrong with 12 Grimmauld Place. He had somehow dodged the rest of breakfast, after being shot sympathetic looks from Hermione, and plain "pathetic" looks from Ginny.

He had found the attic. After dusting the dirty trapdoor, he managed to climb up a shaky rope ladder, and swing his tired body into a grimy room. Strange rattling noises came from a wardrobe, a strange liquid oozing out of it. Harry smirked one-sidedly, after his original fright. The _ghoul_.

A gritty voice made him jump. 'He's right you know.' It said. Harry's heart had raced. It had been a painting, a rather frog-faced farmer brandishing a pitchfork in one hand.

'Who _are _you?' Harry had asked, guardedly.

'Lord Griswald of Mimbulus Mimbletonia.' Had been the immediate response.

'Mimbulus Mimbletonia? Isn't that some kind of wonky plant?' Harry had asked.

The farmer had extended his pitchfork menacingly.

'Don't make fun of herbology, yer only in yer youth.' He'd said, sounding uncannily like Hagrid.

'Why are you all cooped up in here then, eh, Lord Griswald?' Harry asked warily.

'Ask me caretakers then! Them redheads are orful perticular-like about wot makes 'em look good, and wot makes 'em look _perculiar_.' Lord Griswald had said, sounding disgusted.

'Well, d'you, I mean, you don't mind if I stick it out up hear, do you?' Asked Harry.

'No m'boy, no! Just keep quiet, you never know _wot_ sort of folks them redheads got around. Frightfully talkative.' The painting had resumed to the pitchfork upright pose, his mouth a grim line.

Harry shuddered and had slid into a dark spot, jumping over an old battered empty package of Chocolate Frogs, worming his way around a box of "Easily Egested Leeches' (EELs) eventually sitting on a patch of threadbare rug.

Now, he was sandwiched between a box of tight dresses, and an old book. It was a rich, brown leather, and had the words 'Belladonna Bones' embroidered onto the centre. Harry opened the book. It was completely blank, with yellowed pages and a gold-leaf binding. He turned it over. Nothing. He sighed and held it in his lap.

He would give it to Hermione, or Ginny maybe. Even Mrs. Weasley. It looked new, and completely out of place.

But for now, he would sleep, regardless of what anyone had to say. He rested his head in his hands, and Lord Griswald allowed to him to nod off.

'Good fer a young lad ter catch a few winks.' He said, before falling asleep himself.

* * *

When Ginny managed to make it downstairs, Hermione's eyes were glassy, and she stared off into space. Oh Merlin, not _again_. 

She alternated exchanging looks with Harry and Ron.

Harry's eyes said, 'What can I do?'

Ron's said, 'What the hell d'you think?'

Ginny gasped in exasperation and walked up to Hermione.

'Can I help?' She said expectantly. She had learned in the past that saying 'Can I help?' was much more beneficial than asking what was wrong. 'What's wrong?' is highly clichéd and overrated, in Ginny's opinion.

Hermione shut her eyes furiously, tilting her head back, as if trying to stop the tears from falling. In her hand she clutched a moving newspaper.

'Oh,' Ginny said sympathetically. It was a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and a picture of three witches brandishing wands at the sky. Hermione opened her mouth, and began to speak shakily.

'Take a look. Look at what, what these _racists_ have done.' She gestured to the article. Ginny looked at the title. 'Oh.' She finished, in a resigned tone. She scanned it. 'Blah blah blah muggles, blah blah blah witches…hmm, what's wrong?' Ginny asked.

Hermione groaned. 'Read it,' she whispered.

**Violation of the Ministry**

_It has been less than six months since the esteemed Albus Dumbledore was murdered under his own nose, and already the rumours have begun to pour in. The Advice Column at the _Prophet_ has been teeming with questions. Even more recently, several muggles were killed at the apparition spot for the _Age Before Beauty _nursing home._

_It has even been rumoured that it was not the wholly magical families of the present day that were engaged in the killings. In fact, the ministry has made numerous calculations as to the statistics of such matters, and the rumours have a grain of truth embedded in them. _

_The muggles that were available to identify the murderers gave the same description. Brown hair, brown eyes, and freckles. The significant murderer was female, and seemed to be about fifty-three years old. She did not carry a wand, but instead knife wounds were located on the neck and face of the muggles. It was a peculiar coincidence that the muggles were killed at the exact apparition spot for wizards, and that the muggles were murdered with knife wounds. _

_Coincidence, or Muggle-born violation? Send your responses to the _Daily Prophet_. This is Talia Sigourney, signing off._

Hermione coloured visibly as Ginny finished.

'_Muggles_! That's all they are, all my parents are, all I _knew_ I was until my acceptance letter! Muggles! Not people, not anything but Muggles. And why are they so quick not to blame it on Purebloods! I'm sure the Malfoys and the Blacks could be responsible!' Hermione said, her voice barely under control.

Ginny flinched. Her family was Pureblood, and Hermione damn well knew it.

'Indoor voice, Hermione.' She pointed out rather unsympathetically. Hermione took a deep breath.

'They also judge muggles, thinking they have to be plain and ordinary, with brown hair, brown eyes and freckles!' She said heatedly.

'_You_ have brown hair, brown eyes and freckles.' Ron said unhelpfully. Hermione shrieked incoherently before stamping off.

'What's gotten into her?' Harry said, pleading to Ginny.

Ginny scoffed and walked off. _Men_.

She had walked not two feet when she felt delicate fingers lace around her upper arm. She took a deep breath. She slowly turned around, the fingers letting go of her arm. It was a tall doe-eyed black-haired woman, creamy-skinned, although she was slouched in a position that could be only described as comical.

'Wotcher Ginny.' The woman said silkily. Ginny glanced up. The woman screwed up her nose, and the features of Tonks began to peer down at her. The grip became less delicate.

'There's something you need to see. It concerns your friends. You've seen a pensieve, right?' Tonks said inquiringly.

'Sure.' Ginny said. Tonks shook her head with mock-reprieve.

'Kids these days, don't really know much, do they?'

Ginny smirked. 'I happen to be sixteen, Nymphadora.' She said snootily.

Tonks pinched Ginny's cheek affectionately then swore. 'Damn, we'd best be going to see, huh Ginevra?' She asked.

'Whatever.' Ginny laughed, before trying to keep up with Tonks.

* * *

Blaise and his mother had popped round to visit Narcissa.

Draco knew that the Zabinis were to be respected, not befriended, but Draco and Blaise were as close to friends as it was possible for them to be.

Draco laughed conspicuously as Blaise and his mother walked in. His mother, Jimewas clad in robes of silver and rose, whereas Blaise wore bottle green, his dark hair slicked back.

'Zabini.' Draco acknowledged.

'Malfoy.' Blaise's head slightly inclined towards him. Jime smiled falsely with Narcissa, while she carelessly waved a hand to Blaise.

'You run off with Drayyyyco, Blaise dahling, and let me and Cissy have a nice chat. Ciao, mia bambina.' Jime said loftily.

'Adieu, mon cherie.' Blaise replied haughtily in French,

Draco shook his head. 'What's that all about?' Draco said.

'My mother insists that I am her "baby" until I find a decent girlfriend. Too bad I told her about the fact that my heart can never achieve its own desire…' Blaise sighed.

'To put it frankly, she thought you told her you were gay.' Draco laughed.

'Ask me no questions, I tell you no lies.' Draco laughed again and punched Blaise on the shoulder. He knew that Blaise wasn't gay, but he liked to laugh at him about his rather, confusing relationship with his mother.

'Well, mine has been trying to set me up with Pansy.' Draco said.

'Touché, Malfoy, strictly touché.' Blaise said knowingly. Draco wondered how he would ever get Narcissa to know that Pansy hated him, and that he probably would like her a whole lot less if she did like him, anyway.

'You see, what you need is some sort of release. A little wager. You don't need Parkinson breathing down your back. You need a new challenge, you know, like something forbidden.' Blaise said thoughtfully.

'h Puh-Lease, Zabini. If I didn't know you better, I'd swear you wanted me set up with a Hufflepuff!' Draco laughed.

'Depends on how desperate I get, Malfoy my old friend.' Blaise chortled. Draco shook his head. Nothing Blaise could have said would have tricked him into dating a Hufflepuff. OR a Gryffindor, for that matter. Gryffindors like Patil? Or _Brown_? Draco shuddered.

'Your funeral, you might end up like your good old friend, Blaise Zabini.'

'What, gay?'

'No, bastard, alone.' Blaise said, sighing.

Draco shook his head again. Him, Draco Malfoy, alone? With those abs? Not likely.

'Your ego could match Potter's, you know, Malfoy.' Blaise said, as if reading Draco's thoughts.

'Hate it or love it.' Draco said, joking.

A call from the living room startled him, and seemingly Blaise too.

'Drayyyyycccooo! You and Blaise please proceed to the living room, alright?' Narcissa said, taking a page out of Jime's book.

Draco stood up. 'What we waiting for, Zabini?' he asked.

'A _sonorus_ spell, maybe, if Cissy could get any louder?' Blaise muttered.

'Hey, don't backtalk my mother, alright Zabini.' Draco warned.

'Loud and clear, Malfoy.' Blaise said. They walked off, wondering what the frazzled mothers would have to say _this _time.

* * *

Don't worry, Blaise is so not going to dare Draco to get with Hermione. Helllll no. P.S., any ideas as to what might be in the pensieve, guys, cause I seriously don't know. Jime is pronounced hee-meh. 

Peaches,

Anya

BTW: No Blaise is not gay. Just clearing that up.

* * *


	9. And Pensieves

Chapter 9

Summary:

The Harry Potter 7th years are returning for their last year at school, with a little more than magic on their minds, such as the tremendous war between The Dark Lord and the Order. So it would strike the HP7Y's as odd when one of the Dark Lord's most faithful supporter's son shows up, pretending to have changed. Especially since Draco Malfoy had been expelled the year before, and had very narrowly murdered Albus Dumbledore. Even more surprising is the fact that Malfoy had seemed to take an odd interest in one of the biggest members of the Order. Hermione Granger.

Chapter Rating: K+

Summary of chapter: A little bit more Harry, lots of Ginny/Hermione, what _really_ happened in the Pensieve, but still loads of mysteries.

Disclaimer: Ok, you're disclaimed. Way to break my heart, Harry Potter (books).

Last Chapter:

_'Your ego could match Potter's, you know, Malfoy.' Blaise said, as if reading Draco's thoughts._

_'Hate it or love it.' Draco said, joking._

_A call from the living room startled him, and seemingly Blaise too._

_'Drayyyyycccooo! You and Blaise please proceed to the living room, alright?' Narcissa said, taking a page out of Jime's book._

_Draco stood up. 'What we waiting for, Zabini?' he asked._

_'A sonorus spell, maybe, if Cissy could get any louder?' Blaise muttered._

_'Hey, don't backtalk my mother, alright Zabini.' Draco warned._

_'Loud and clear, Malfoy.' Blaise said. They walked off, wondering what the frazzled mothers would have to say this time.

* * *

_

'A magical creature similar to a phoenix, but with more foreboding qualities…Augerey! The _Prophet_ thinks they're _so_ clever.' Hermione snapped gleefully, filling in AUGEREY in bold on her crossword puzzle. A knock on the door jolted her out of the crossword. It was a tall, regal woman with Russian features.

'Hello?' Hermione ventured tentatively.

'Hi Hermione.' The voice said smoothly.

'He-hello.' Hermione said slowly.

'Relax, it's me, Tonks!' The woman said, ruining her perfect nose. Immediately, she was Tonks, all spiky bubblegum-pink hair and all. Hermione grinned.

'What's going on?'

'_You've_ seen a pensieve, I'm sure, unlike Ginny, so, let's go, shall we?' Tonks asked, extending a still milky pale hand.

'Sorry.' Tonks said, and the hand became less slender, and became a very light brown. Hermione swung her legs off of the camp bed that she slept in and grasped Tonks' hand, pulling herself up.

'Where are you taking me?' Hermione said, adjusting to the foremost, most obvious question.

'To a pensieve.' Tonks answered evasively.

'Why were you dressed like Anastasia?' Hermione asked.

'Ana-who?' Tonks said. Hermione shook her head.

Wizards and witches were _so_ culturally deprived.

'Never mind. I mean, why did you morph into a member of the ancient Russian Monarchy?' Asked Hermione.

'You know, practicing, got to keep in shape.' Tonks replied, taking a firm grip around Hermione's wrist.

Hermione gave up and followed Tonks, hopping over spellbooks and Ginny's favourite Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes goody-bags.

Tonks had released her hand, and was instead walking briskly onto the hallway, her hair going from pink to caramel, to purple, to mellow ebony.

'Yes, good to keep in shape.' Tonks repeated, her hair returning to its pink as Mrs. Weasley stepped up.

'Hello Tonks! Remus has been _constantly _asking about you, he seems to assume you'd dropped off the face of the earth, poor thing. Are you taking Hermione to, well, I'm sure you are! I suppose you've taken Ginny as well?' Mrs. Weasley asked, smiling expectantly at Tonks.

'Of course, Molly! Just drop me a note when you locate Harry, he stomped off at breakfast, I'll be back in a bit!' Tonks said, smiling animatedly while rushing off.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks.

'_Where_ are we going, _why_ are we _go_ing there, and _most importantly_ why are we _go_ing there so _fast_?' Hermione asked, now thoroughly irritated, in her most commanding voice.

'Because, _Hermione_, the faster we get there, the faster we finish.' Tonks explained condescendingly.

Hermione searched Tonks' face for a minute.

'Fair enough.' She replied grumpily.

'You _know_ Hermione, if you did this a little more often, you might take off some of the weight on that big fat head of yours.' Tonks deadpanned.

Hermione's jaw dropped.

'_Nymphadora Tonks_—' she started, a hint of a flush in her cheeks.

'All right, enough with the _name_, only joking! Only joking!' Tonks flinched visibly.

Hermione gave a sort of laugh that was comprised of mostly 'Ha-ha,' before ambling down another flight of stairs.

She still hadn't gotten used to the twists and turns of the Weasley's home. It was very bright, as sun blazed in from behind patchwork curtains, accenting the colour as opposed to the shabbiness of the threadbare rug. Every she turned something magical happened, whether it was a painting screaming, a stray forkand knife doing the _Macarena_, or a moving photograph of some escaped convict.

She had never previously been to an all-magic household, she felt as though Hogwarts didn't count. You shouldn't mix work and fun.

She believed that strongly, and decided that that was probably the reason why she _always_ had to do work before she did anything else.

Harry and Ron were timewasters. They never did anything when they were supposed to. Hermione mentally chided herself for insulting her friends, even if it was only to herself.

Her friends were her family. She would never turn her back on them. Not for _anybody._

Tonks surprised her by stopping short, bringing a finger to her lips and clutching one of Hermione's hands.

'One.' Hermione's brain went haywire. Where was Tonks _taking _her?

'Two.' Tonks clutched the doorknob, pressing down on top of Hermione's hand. Hermione felt her muscles tense. This was a _portkey_.

'Three.' Tonks pushed the door open and Hermione felt the sensation of a hook being jerked behind her navel, as she saw a flash of bright light, and the world rush past in a buzz of lights and sounds.

This wasn't a portkey. It was a mediator of Proverbial Conquest.

* * *

'Absolutely _not_! I refuse to become a part of this! Don't you _see_, this is what they've been forcing us to do from the _start_!' Snapped someone who appeared to be a younger version of Harry's mother. 

Ginny still was shaking. She had never been in a pensieve before, and even Hermione's encouraging words weren't helping.

It was terrifying, being sucked into a hole, where no one could hear you, where you were alone, but for two people.

And now, to hear Harry's mother talk as if she were still _alive_, it was amazing. Cruel, but amazing.

A boy who looked exactly like Harry, except fordifferent colouredeyes smirked wryly at the girl, about Ginny's age.

'Evans, Evans, Evans, when will you _ever_ learn? They don't look you in the eye when you first get chucked in and say, "That, that Lily Evans is the person I'm going to recruit for the Order." Hell Evans, I'm not even _sure_ they had an order that far back.' The boy said.

'Shut up, Potter. You act as if nothing every existed before _you_ came to Hogwarts.' Lily Evans snapped.

'Well, it wasn't as important, was it, my darling, I didn't have _you_ in my life, now did I?' The boy, Potter, _James _Potter, Ginny remembered suddenly, clucked a finger under Lily's chin.

The-junior-Harry's-mother said 'Ugh,' before pushing him off, instead pointing to an old, yellowing photograph.

'There's the first Order. Aboutthirty years ago.' Lily Evans sighed impatiently.

'Hey, that's Dumbledore! Wow Evans, are you that old, managed to snap a picture of Dumbledore?' James Potter said in awe.

'Of course it is, you idiot.' Snapped the girl. 'And that's _Professor _you designated failure.' She said haughtily.

'Why would I call _you_ Professor, Evans? Darling, babycakes, pumpkin suits me _fine_.' James recovered quickly.

Ginny scoffed. Oh, _ew_.

She was starting to wonder what this had to do with _anything_ but Harry's father being a total idiot when Tonks approached her.

'OK, watching Lily and James is not you're idea of fun, but this is how he saw it.' She said, shrugging as if to say, 'What can _I _do?'

Ginny focused her attention on the arguing to-be parents.

'Alright, _Evans_, I get that you don't want to join. I don't know _why_, but I get that you don't. But it's important. You-Know-Who is becoming stronger by the minute, and we need to fight back!' James said, sounding sincere.

'Like I'll be much help anyway.' Lily said resignedly.

'Shake?' Asked James, grinning broadly.

Lily laughed. 'If I so much as _touched _you willingly I'd be pregnant ten minutes later.' She said, turning her back on him.

'You'll _see_, Evans, you'll see.' James said.

Ginny quirked an eyebrow.

Huh?

'Don't _worry _Ginny, just wait, oh, have you seen Hermione?' Asked Tonks.

Ginny raised the other eyebrow.

'Where _is _Hermione?' Ginny asked.

'Erm, I think she ran into a cupboard. She did _not_ want to watch "Harry's _own _parents!" consummate their love. Not like they _did_, this time, as I repeatedly told her.'

'Ugh Tonks.' Ginny said. 'Why am I watching this, anyway?'

'Go look over there, _there_, at that photograph. Not that one, _there_!'

Ginny glided over, feeling weighed down and sluggish.

It was a picture, dated 1981. What was so important about 1981? Her parents were 70s people after all. She bent down to examine it, knocking her arm on a dark table.

_The dungeons_, she thought. _James Potter brought up the Order with Lily Evans in the _dungeons_? How pa-thetic. _

She returned her attention to the photograph.

A blonde witch stared snootily up at her. Her look was definitely Malfoy-ish. She rolled her eyes and looked at the person next to it. The witch had brown hair, and was talking animatedly to the blond witch, without much response.

'They can't see you.' Tonks said simply.

'What's so _important_ about this?' Asked Ginny.

'One second,' Tonks cleared her throat, 'Oy, _Her-My-Oh-KNEE_!'

Hermione stepped out from behind the teacher's desk, looking around furtively, making sure that Lily and James weren't snogging. They had retreated to the other corner of the room; Lily's back turned.

'That woman _there_, next to the brunette witch. Who is she?' Asked Ginny. Hermione's eyes opened to saucers.

'No, absolutely _not_, it _can't_ be, oh my _gosh_!' Hermione squealed excitedly.

'Who is it?' Ginny asked, feeling stupid.

'It's _Petunia Dursley_! It's _Harry's aunt_! His _guardian_!'

Ginny's jaw dropped.

'But, Harry didn't, she's a _witch_?' Ginny asked, her thumb scraping the skin off of her lip.

'Of course not! Even more surprisingly, she's an undercover muggle! Petunia Dursley has worked for the Order for almost twenty years. She detests Harry, it's true, but she faithfully keeps guard of him, even though he has been virtually marked for death. Petunia Dursley is a secret-keeper. As long as Harry remains there, even without Dumbledore's charm, You-Know-Who will _never_ be able to infiltrate the Dursleys', as long as Harry remains there, he is safe.' Tonks took a deep breath.

There was an awkward silence, Hermione was the first to break it.

'Oh my _gosh_! That's _amazing_! I can't _believe_ it! Harry's _aunt_! A _secret-keeper_?' Hermione squealed again.

'Honestly, I've never heard anybody speak in Italics like Hermione.' Tonks said.

Ginny grinned.

What the hell were Italics?

* * *

Harry awoke abruptly, staring around, his eyes jolted open. 

Where the hell was he?

He took one look at Lord Griswald of Mimbulus Mimbletonia and remembered.

He stretched his arms, feeling stiff and achy, having slept on a bed of old baby's clothes and twenty-three bottles of 'Stain Away'.

The room was dark, dimly lit by a completely circular glass window, like a porthole in a ship.

He stood up, almost dropping again, his calves stiffening, cramps taking them over.

He shook his foot to relieve his sensation of Pins and Needles, his foot apparently having fallen asleep with the rest of him.

He felt something thin drop out of the pockets of his oversized pajamas.

The _book_.

_Belladonna Bones_.

He felt around in the dark with his left hand, his right clutching the book.

He pulled on a ring, and the trapdoor opened.

He took a deep breath, protecting the book with his arms, and jumped.

* * *

'Bloody hell!' Ron yelled as he saw the huge lump of clothes and dust land on the floor. 

Harry stood up, looking sheepish.

'Ok, first you rush off at breakfast, as if you'd been _blasted_, then you hide away for hours, mum almost _died_, and now you pop down out of the damn _attic_, spilling dust all over my floor! Honestly, you are _mental_, but I'd probably love to hear all about it.' Ron said.

'Ok, sure. But first, do you have any idea who ahm, Belladonna Bones is?' Harry asked, checking the book for reference.

'No, but what does that have to do with you?' Ron gestured to the grime on Harry's face.

'Ok, it all started when…' Harry began to speak, only to be cut off from a loud bang on the door.

* * *

A/N- I know, I know, too much mysteries, terrible cliffhanger, and I suck at writing Lily/James scenes, although they are super fun to read. Next chapter is the _last_ one without Hogwarts, Ok! Review, review review!

Peaches,

Anya!


	10. Proverbial ConquestPart II

Summary:

The Harry Potter 7th years are returning for their last year at school, with a little more than magic on their minds, such as the tremendous war between The Dark Lord and the Order. So it would strike the HP7Y's as odd when one of the Dark Lord's most faithful supporter's son shows up, pretending to have changed. Especially since Draco Malfoy had been expelled the year before, and had very narrowly murdered Albus Dumbledore. Even more surprising is the fact that Malfoy had seemed to take an odd interest in one of the biggest members of the Order. Hermione Granger.

Chapter Rating: T, language, mostly from everyone's favourite ferret/

Summary of chapter: Draco does a surprising thing, small D/Hr scene, Hogwarts train, anything else I've forgotten…Oh yeah, another crap cliffhanger.

Disclaimer: Are you ready kids? Aye aye Captain! I can't hear you, Aye aye captain! Disclaimed! (You almost missed it! Ha!)

Last Chapter:

'_Ok, first you rush off at breakfast, as if you'd been blasted, then you hide away for hours, mum almost died, and now you pop down out of the damn attic, spilling dust all over my floor! Honestly, you are mental, but I'd probably love to hear all about it.' Ron said._

'_Ok, sure. But first, do you have any idea who ahm, Belladonna Bones is?' Harry asked, checking the book for reference._

'_No, but what does that have to do with you?' Ron gestured to the grime on Harry's face._

'_Ok, it all started when…' Harry began to speak, only to be cut off from a loud bang on the door._

'You are _frightful_, you know that?' Pansy said indignantly. Draco had hardly been listening to her, instead focusing on the fact that he was supposed to _apparate _to Platform 9 ¾.

'Oh sorry.' Draco said, although not quite knowing what he was apologising for. It was ten o'clock, and if he didn't apparate soon, both he and Pansy were going to miss the train.

'You had better hurry. You don't want a repeat of Potter and Weasley's 2nd year, now _do _you, _Draco_.' Pansy said mockingly, voicing his fears.

'Alright, let's say we _can't _apparate. Mother is gone, and Father's left for work. What do we do, floo? The apparition chambers are being, ahem, serviced. You know that Pansy.' Draco pointed out unhelpfully.

'Then we do it the hard way. Obviously. Let me go first.' Pansy took a deep breath, shook her bob and turned around; her eyes squeezed shut.

With a loud _crack!_ Pansy was gone. Draco looked around nervously, his slick white-blond hair moving slightly as he did.

He thought ferociously of King's Cross, trying his hardest to remember the three apparition Ds. Unfortunately, the only ones he could think of were the ones he made up, or Dumbfking, Dcksucking, Dyke. Not exactly helpful, but it did rhyme. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to dwell on the fact that he was trying to walk into thin air, and took a huge jump, odd pictures whirling through his brain.

Draco Malfoy had just successfully and unsuspectingly Proverbated.

INSERT PAGE BREAK

It was ten twenty-one. Hermione had just driven with the Weasley's and Harry all the way to King's Cross.

She felt extremely happy, having forgotten all about the book she'd bought (without complete control of herself!), about Malfoy, and about the Muggle article.

She was Hermione Jane Granger, Head Girl.

She could practically do a little jig.

Fortunately, her common sense had kicked in and told her that this would look stupid.

Her parents had exchanged heartfelt goodbyes (her handkerchief would never be the same again), and Crookshanks was fast asleep in his carrying case. It would be the most fantastic year later excepting the little nuisances that plagued her Hogwarts enjoyment-- namely the Slytherins—but she was determined to not let that disturb her. Her fellow Head was reasonably nice, and Professor McGonagall would make a good headmistress, at least, better than Umbridge.

'It's going to be great this year, isn't it, Ron?' Hermione asked, aiming a grin in Ron's direction.

'I suppose so. You haven't got to try out for the Quidditch Team, to endure taunts of _Weasley Is Our King_.' Ron said grumpily, hunching his shoulders.

'Don't worry Ron. Harry'll let you back on anyway.' Hermione was determined not to let Ron spoil her mood.

'Besides, even if you let in all five goals, Hermione can always use the _Confundus _charm on anyone who could do the slightest bit better than you.' Harry smirked. Hermione sighed. Confound someone _once_, you're marked for life.

'You won't let me get over that, will you?' Hermione said, not as a question, but more as a statement.

'Um, no.' Harry and Ron said simultaneously.

Hermione sighed contentedly, admiring the happy, easy looks on her friend's faces. _Her _friends. Her boys. Hermione unexpectedly grabbed the both of them in a tight one-armed hug, much to Ron's embarrassment.

'You guys really are a bunch of bastards, you know that?' Hermione let go of the two frazzled boys abruptly, walking briskly to the train.

'Ouch!'

'Merlin, Granger, is it _that_ hard to watch where you're going! Surely by now you know how to walk.' A familiar voice suddenly cut through Hermione's head pain.

'Oh. It's you. I thought you'd have better things to do than torture poor innocent passers-by.' Hermione replied hotly.

'I thought mudbloods spent more time crying than knocking over honest wizards.' Malfoy said slowly, looking down at Hermione's crumpled form without remorse.

She stood up quickly, straightening her hooded sweatshirt and her cotton pants. Her muggle clothes. _He_ of course, looked completely unaffected, black robes wrinkle free (how did he change so quickly?), hair gelled to absolute perfection. As a matter of fact, you could scarcely tell that he'd just been banged into but for the slight pink tinge that appeared high on his cheekbones.

'Yes well, sometimes it's always nice to have a change from the norm.' Hermione said, trying her best to ignore the foul language he always seemed full of.

Maybe Hermione simply imagined the slight smile that appeared on his face, or maybe it—if it indeed was—was meant for someone else. She stood there stupidly for a moment, watching him board the train, before blinking six times and boarding it herself.

INSERT PAGE BREAK

'What are you thinking about, Hermione?' Asked Harry patiently, trying to ignore the knowing smirk on Ron's face.

'She's thinking about her torrid love affair with her new books.' Ron said, smug look still on her face.

Harry gave a scoff and turned his attention back to Hermione.

'I don't know. I mean, it's our last year, and—Harry, what's the matter?' Hermione focused on Harry's pained look.

'It's my scar. It's been hurting ever since I saw you bowl into Malfoy.' Harry furtively looked at Hermione.

'He hit me, more like.' Hermione's expression turned sour. 'It doesn't matter anyway, we know he's a death eater, Harry, that's probably what triggered your scar pain.'

'I don't know what Dumbledore's playing at, anyway, letting him come back.' Ron said.

A sharp rap on the compartment glass snapped the Gryffindors out of their reverie.

'Aren't you prefects supposed to be patrolling the train?' It was Ginny.

'Actually, we already did. Why do you ask?' This came from Ron, standing up so he towered over his little sister's head.

'I've got to talk to Harry privately. Now bugger off.' Ginny rolled her eyes, and Hermione impatiently waved Ron her way. As the two left, Ginny sat opposite Harry.

'Dumbledore sent me an owl for you. Wait until you're alone to read it, he said. Oh and Harry—' Ginny paused, 'Don't be a bastard.' Ginny kissed his cheek and walked out, undoubtedly to call Hermione and Ron back.

Harry watched her go, his hand absentmindedly fingering his scar.

INSERT PAGE BREAK

Another glorious chapter up (LOL), with a teeny-tiny so quick you might miss it D/Hr scene. Not much after two months but hey, it's not shorter than average, at least. Check out my new story, Confessions of A Broken Heart (Please don't send Lindsay Lohan's lawsuit on me). Thanks to all my loverly reviewers!

Peaches,

Anya


	11. The End Of The World

Chapter 11

**Be great in act, as you have been in thought**

**William Shakespeare**

_'What makes sense today often not makes sense tomorrow.' The morose voice crooned melodramatically, trying his hardest to explain to her the predicament._

'Dearest Rodolphus, you cannot expect me to believe that. You are simply being ridiculous.' Harry understood exactly what he was seeing now. That pale face, without the hooded eyes, without her waxy appearance, a lifetime before he'd met her; was Bellatrix Lestrange. The growl in his throat escaped in a strangled gasp.

'My Dearest, someone is watching us. You go on, I can take care of him.' Bellatrix waited for her husband to leave before spinning around slowly, her eyes resting on Harry's face.

'Oh it's you! Silly boy, we would have loved to invite you into our home, no need to be so secretive. Let's allow Little Peter to have a seat.'

Harry's brain didn't register the name, but he walked over to greet her, nevertheless.

Bellatrix's eyes were on his face.

'Now tell me, Peter, why are you here? Did Cissy send you? You can't expect me to believe that Potter, or Lupin, or even my dearest cousin have discovered you, yet?' Bellatrix placed a hand on Harry's cheek, her curved nails cutting into his face.

'Now, Peter, who sent you?' Her voice was no longer sweet. Her cold black eyes glared at him, and she brought her face close to his. Harry realised with a pang of hopelessness that she might kill him. Her fingers were drawing blood from his face, he noticed.

'Get out Peter, before Rodolphus returns, and he kills you for the traitor you are. Spending your time, frolicking with them, when you are supposed to be finding a way to tell Sirius to make you the secret-keeper!' Bellatrix's face was murderous.

'I will kill you, you turncoat! You will die, at MY hand! As soon as you have completed your task, I will watch the light leave your eyes!'  
  
'Harry? Harry?' A hand was poking him on the shoulder. Harry's eyes flashed open, and his eyes met Hermione's frightened ones as she studied him.

'Y-you were dreaming. Are you all right?' She placed the back of her hand to his forehead.

'You're all white!' She looked at him anxiously, still fretting even as he calmed her down.

'It was just a dream Hermione. Just a, a dream' He looked around. He was in a compartment on the Hogwarts train, sitting across from Luna Lovegood. The bags under the girl's eyes startled him. They looked almost tattooed into her skin.

'Dreams,' Luna scoffed, curling her lip as she looked at Harry. 'Fat lot of good dreaming has ever done for anyone if you ask me.' Her eyes were milky, the blue faded into the clouds of white that menaced her eyes. Harry fought to keep his mouth closed. The words spilling out of her mouth were harsh—and somberly bittersweet. The look on Hermione's face seemed to echo his feelings.

'Don't be silly Luna. You adore dreams. Your father, the Quibbler, it's all about dreams, and other nonsense—I mean, things most people don't have the courage to believe in.' Hermione's cheeks began to redden.

'No, you're right Hermione. A lot of nonsense. A lot of sodding nonsense written by a bunch of drunken fools with little idea of what they've said to the world. And my father published their articles. And look where that stroke of brilliance came to.' Luna had sucked in her cheeks, and her eyebrow was dangerously arched.

Hermione was silenced. She stood up, exiting the compartment rather hastily.

'I'm off to fetch Ron,' she stated. Harry watched her leave.

'I'd better go too Luna.' He got up. Luna's eyes never left the floor.

'Good-bye,' She said, and then as an afterthought, 'Potter.'

* * *

If there was one thing Hermione hated, it was feeling the near end of the world. Even then she laughed to herself. The end of the world? What exactly is the end of the world? Is it Armageddon, the Apocalypse, Judgment Day? Or is it when people like her, muggleborns, she meant, ceased to exist. It was a horrible feeling to not exist. It contradicted fiercely with what she thought was acceptable to think about. So she hastily stuffed those thoughts away, and focused on books. Books, books, books. She was so focused on books however that she did not notice Malfoy. She did however notice Malfoy after her initial not-noticing him, and she noticed that he did not notice the two sixth-years snogging in the compartment she was about to pass.

'Malfoy!' She called sharply over her shoulder. The blond head turned around, facing her agitatedly.

'What,' He said, his voice tinged with annoyance, 'could you possibly want now?' Hermione was humbled, if not tremendously so.

'Well, I wanted to tell you that you ought to notice such things as public displays of affection.' She said, humbly.

'Don't you think I have better things to do than notice a bunch of sixth years playing kissy face? Honestly.' He turned to leave.

'Hey, Malfoy!' Hermione called tentatively.

'What!' He practically bellowed for all to hear. Hermione took a deep breath.

'The top buttons of your shirt are undone.' She said, averting her eyes away from his pale chest.

'So?' Hermione sniffed.

'So you are exposing an indecent amount of skin in a public area. I could report you for that!' Her chin was in the air, keeping her eyes locked to the direct right of your head.

'Merlin Granger, sometimes I think you are in good need of a—well Merlin.' He groaned before buttoning the buttons on his shirt.

'A good need of a sense of humour? I've heard it before. It's very cliché.' Hermione sniffed again.

'No, not a good sense of humour, just someplace to vent. That's all. Then maybe you wouldn't be such a prick all the time.' He was mumbling, hands fumbling with the clasps on his deep grey shirt. Hermione realised, at that exact moment what he was trying to say. Someone to shout at, someone to annoy to no ends, someone to keep her from the pressures of the end of the world. He had just volunteered himself for a whole year of soppy emotions. Hermione let him walk away, feeling intensely gleeful. Draco Malfoy was in trouble.

She would torment him endlessly, even more than normal. But first, 'Myers, Levy! Stop snogging, or I shall be giving detentions!' Hermione watched the disgusted faces on the two adolescents' faces. She really did need someone to plague with her internal emotions.

Suddenly she was hit with an intensely terrifying thought. Had she just had an acceptable conversation with Draco Malfoy?

Uh, ew!

* * *

Harry Potter was holding a horcrux. Although he didn't know it, he had in the palm of his hand, the diary of Belladonna Bones. Well he knew he had the diary in the palm of his hand—just not that it was a horcrux. Of course, it makes you wonder why Harry Potter even knows what a horcrux is, before you remember that unlike normal people, Harry Potter was trying to save the world. When it seems as if your headmaster is dead, it's just kind of daunting. And if the ID bracelet that ran lazily up and down his arm isn't enough, add the fact that people had begun a routine 'forearm' checking daily routine to check for death eaters.

Yeah, he'd say the world needed some saving.

Except the ironic part of it all was, that Harry Potter was already well on his way to saving the world. If he could just have revealed the diary as a horcrux—and managed to bring the owner of it back to human existence, Harry Potter just might save the world.

* * *


End file.
